God's Tender Creatures: Everyday Wisdom from the Innocents

PART I:

FAT ALICE AND THE PRINCESS

CHAPTER 1

PRINCESS SAHARA THE STRANGE

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge. Proverbs 1:7

There she was her blond hair bright against the green of the lawn. Seemingly, there was not an ounce of fat on her sleek, born-to-run body. Every line of her athletic form exuded health and poise.

At the moment, her head was resting on her wrist – the thinker’s pose. Languorously, she shifted positions. Her long legs stretched, then demurely crossed at the ankles. Her finely boned head sat delicately balanced atop her long, slightly curved neck. Still as a stone, her large dark eyes stared intently. She was a picture of calm concentration.

A passerby, enchanted by her beauty, dared to walk towards her. Turning that elegant head towards the sound of the footsteps, she tilted her face upward, not so much to see the man, but to size him up. But as soon as she moved her head, the man started: Oh! I thought you were a statue! he explained to her.

Just then, I came into his view. Embarrassed and not yet over his start, he now approached me, apologizing, I thought she was a statue, she’s so beautiful!

I thought, That’s interesting. He called her ’she’, but most people address dogs as ’he’.

The passerby continued, "She is a dog isn’t she? I mean, I’ve never seen anything like that animal, uh, that breed. What is she?"

Indeed. Salukis are a breed unto themselves.

* * *

Sahara comes from a breed of very ancient canines. She is a Saluki, a type of sleek sighthound. A Saluki is one of the oldest known canine breeds, having been bred for more than six thousand years in Arabia, Persia, and Egypt. People in those regions do not consider a Saluki to be a type of dog. No, to them, a Saluki is a unique animal, a gift of God.

The Saluki is their hunter. There are no supermarkets in the desert. The nomadic Bedouins rely on the Saluki to bring down game for dinner. Until recently, Salukis were never sold, and only rarely given away as a special gift of honor. Unlike the Arab’s unclean guard dogs, which stay outside and are not touched, Salukis are allowed to sleep in their master’s tent. When a Saluki whelps a litter, notices are sent. When a Saluki dies, he is buried with funeral rites.

Since owning a Saluki, I think the Arabs may be right! It does seem a breed apart. Never have I seen a dog with a more un-dog-like temperament. Salukis are notoriously spooky, and ours seems to be on the leading edge of spookiness. They are more cat-like than cats in aloofness, more sure-footed than goats, more graceful than deer, more wary than wild birds, more agile than squirrels, and faster. They are the ballet dancers of the canine world.

Sahara eats grass and grazes from trees and bushes. At night, she entertains herself by catching bugs, especially locusts and grasshoppers. She eats them. Sahara notices everything in sight, and can be startled by anything new or unexpected – even her own shadow! She has the eyesight of an eagle, although her large almond-shaped eyes, slanting down to her muzzle, look more like the eyes of an alien than an eagle. She notices everything visual and olfactory, but she doesn’t seem to notice when she’s hungry.

We have to plead with her to eat. We have to cajole, trick, and sometimes even force her to eat. We have tried food supplements, home-cooked food for dogs, a variety diet, one-food diets, vet recommended Eat now or nothing routines – everything. If she weren’t a dog, I’d say she is anorexic. She certainly looks it. And she has strange eating compulsions which human anorexics are said to develop. For instance, she often noses her food-bowl, pushing it here and there. Sometimes she’ll even push the rug on which her bowl rests. After the nose treatment, she’ll wander off into other rooms, before coming back to sniff or taste her food. She may or may not eat it.

Sahara’s treatment of her food evokes a question: Do I act like that regarding God’s blessings? Does God present some situation that is for my good, but the self intrudes – the self has to be in control, to nose it about. The self trusts in itself, rather than in the goodness of God. The self may not appreciate God’s gift.

I remember when I was very young, my grandmother, Sarah, saying, Eat, eat! I resented her trying to make me eat. (I wish I still had to be begged to eat!) How can it be that I have fallen into grandmother’s folly, saying, Eat, eat?

I was judgmental about grandmother’s urging. But now I understand my grandmother’s frustration! In my life, and the lives of those around me, I have noticed that the things that we criticize in others, even the small things, often end up incorporated in us. Somehow, in spite of grandmother, I learned to like to eat. Now I’m waiting for Sahara to do the same.¹

Judge not, that ye be not judged. Matthew 7:1

* * *

Salukis aren’t for the faint-hearted. Sahara is a challenging dog. Not that she’s aggressive, no, but there is more to being difficult than aggression. But she isn’t nearly as difficult as most Salukis, especially those raised in Saluki homes. But Sahara was raised with amiable Alice, a much more normal dog, so she is better mannered than most Salukis. When we have food on the table, she never tries to get it. If she wants something, she comes to us, then goes to the desired object and points at it with her long, skinny nose. Then she looks back at us, waiting for our response. She is a wonderful communicator.

Not so with most other Salukis. Once Sahara’s breeder, Janet, came visiting with three other Salukis. They hit the house like children on speed. Barely inside the front door, one bounded upstairs three stairs at a time, one jumped on the kitchen counter, found an unopened package of dog treats, ripped it open and consumed the entire contents before I could reach the dog. And one headed down the hall to commit who knows what. While I was trying to corral the dogs, Janet was mumbling mild mannered nothings to her now out-of-sight dogs and to Sahara who was cowering behind her, looking for a place to keep out of the way of the hyper dogs who were formerly her family! Finally we were able to entice the merry trio into the back yard of which they made good use. Sahara, meanwhile, took the opportunity to flee to her crate.

One of the first times I went to Janet’s house I was struck by the oddity of the metal grating which encased her refrigerator.

"My, you must belong to a really serious Weight Watchers group!"

Oh, no. Look, it has hinges and a closure. I can unlatch it and open it.

I gave an incredulous look.

It’s to keep Puck out. (Puck was a nine-year-old male Saluki.) If I don’t do this, Puck opens the fridge door and helps himself.

You’re kidding!

No, he really does. But he’s not too bad, he usually closes the door after he’s gotten what he wants.

Salukis are like cats and often enjoy high places, like the tops of vans, tables, counters and even refrigerators. The trouble is (not to mention dubious sanitation), they are much, much larger than cats and can dwarf any kitchen.

On a Saluki chat room, one can read amazing stories. I remember one from a five-Saluki household, where, on bad weather days, these high-energy dogs invented their own games to keep themselves in shape. One of their games was a high-speed chase through their house. They kept to the same route barreling down the stairs sprinting through various rooms and into the den and over the recliner then back up the stairs again. One rainy day, the owner had a visitor who was sitting in the recliner when the Salukis took their exercise. Without changing course, the dogs, one after the other, nimbly jumped over the recliner and its startled occupant – who was slowly scrunching lower and lower in that chair!

* * *

From far across the ravine, the eagle-eyed beast was toying with me yet again.

Oh, why couldn’t she be like faithful Alice walking by my side? But Sahara is a Saluki, and as all the dog breed manuals attest, that breed is independent. Okay, I get it!

Every morning I run the dogs. It is our daily chore, and today the time for this chore was over. Alice knew it and jumped into the van. I stood staring towards Sahara. I waited. In the distance, Sahara frolicked. I called to her. She stopped. I called again and waved, motioning towards the open van door. Still as a statue, the sun glinting off her golden back, she stared back at me.

"Sahara! Come!

Sahara, please come here!

We’ve got to go NOW.

Stupid disobedient dog, get over here right now!"

Beaten, I closed the side door, and got in the van. Still nothing from Sahara. I started the engine. No move from Sahara. I drove the car slowly away. After driving about three hundred yards, She sprang into action and tore across the ravine and up to the car. I stopped and slid the side door open, but she would not get in! She remained a tantalizing twenty-five feet from my grasp. I demanded that she get in. She turned and went into the woods. I parked and yanked open the side door.

I let Alice out and the two of us waited beside the van, the side door still an open invitation for Sahara upon her return. I busied myself removing burrs from Alice.

When Sahara appeared again, she still would not get in, but began to investigate nearby houses. A woman with a toddler came out to see the dog.

Hi, I’m Barbara. Look, Angela, at the pretty doggy.

Sahara barked. Little Angela cried. I ran towards them.

Don’t be afraid, I tried to reassure Barbara. Sahara likes children. I’m sorry she’s not on a leash. She runs about forty miles an hour, so I bring her to the field where I can unleash her. She’s already had a good run this morning, but she’s being stubborn now, playing hard-to-get.

Barbara called to Sahara trying to entice her close enough to grab. No luck. But Sahara was curious enough to stay on her front lawn just out of reach.

Do you have a dog? I asked Barbara. You see, although Sahara sounds fierce, she really is afraid of strange dogs. If she sees a dog approaching her, she’ll run for the van.

But Barbara didn’t have any dogs. She suggested the Mastiff up the street.

Now I knew about the Mastiff, Deedee by name. She was an ill-tempered monster with a head that looked like a Chinese dragon’s mask, and almost as large. I turned in the direction of Deedee’s house. Looking up the hill, squinting against the sun, I made out two dogs there, but they were nowhere near Deedee’s size. So while Barbara kept Sahara’s interest, I went to Deedee’s house.

Deedee’s owner, Jack, was hosing two big-pawed Mastiff puppies. The puppies, all slobbers and dripping paws, greeted me. I explained my plight to Jack and asked if he would bring his two unleashed puppies down the hill to Sahara. I figured she would seek refuge as soon as these cheerful, curious puppies frolicked her way.

Jack, not one to shun an opportunity to show off his dogs, suggested that he allow Deedee herself to have at it.

"What is he thinking, I thought. Doesn’t he remember Deedee’s unprovoked charge on Alice as we strolled by last year, an attack which he was barely able to thwart?"

No, I don’t think Deedee will be necessary. Her puppies are enough.

At that, we had a deal. Down the hill we came, errant doggy to retain. Sure enough, Sahara took flight. She was quite happy to join Alice in the van. I thanked the neighborhood posse, Barbara, Angela, Jack and puppies for their cooperation and we all rejoiced. All told, it took almost an hour to get Sahara into the van.

It was fear that caused Sahara to finally obey.

How often we delay our obedience to the Lord until it is more convenient for us. At times we feel obedience to the Lord is an unfair imposition. But finally, something happens which frightens us into obedience. And even that is of the Lord’s mercy.

I could have left Sahara to come home alone. But I knew that she wasn’t aware of the dangers. What if she, heedless of cars, were to dash across the main road? What if she were taken by a thief? What if she were spooked by something, provoking a long run into unfamiliar territory?

I remember well the time when she was running full bore and caught her foot in a hole, snapping the two bones in her left foreleg. She let out a yell – a yell peculiar to Salukis, the sound of which I imagine only the damned being led away to hell would make – and collapsed. If my husband had not seen her and been able to rescue her immediately, it could have been fatal, not to mention the extended suffering she would have had to endure.

And so again this morning, I was reminded that the rules God gives us are a part of His gracious mercy. He, who is Good, wishes us good things. And we don’t even know what really is good for us. We want this, we want that, but we don’t know if what we want is profitable for us. We don’t even know if we shall still want it after we get it. But God knows.

We can trust God because He is good. Because He is for us, not against us (Rom 8:31). Because He knows, and we don’t. Because He has a proven track record. Because He loves us. We can know He loves us because He has already sent His Son as a sacrifice for us.

But if all these reasons flee from our minds, then at least let us fear Him. The fear of the Lord is clean enduring for ever (Ps 19:9a). It will not lead us into deep water, but will keep us from harm – not only temporal and physical harm, but from harm to our souls, harm which could have eternal consequences.

Keeping Sahara safe was only part of the picture. I had things to do. Sahara’s disobedience was a great imposition to me. And, ultimately, what causes hardship to me, may be passed on to Sahara. For instance, if her disobedience causes me to be rushed, I may not have time to play with her or to brush her later in the day.

While we are being disobedient, we are not getting on with God’s plan for us. We hinder and slow down His work. Through disobedience, we waste our time on earth, missing opportunities He has for us – opportunities to know God better, opportunities to make a positive difference in other people’s lives. Disobedience is a no-win situation.

Concern for Sahara, as well as for my neighbors and my schedule, means that I must keep her from situations in which she will be tempted to disobey. The dog who is more trustworthy is not loved more, but will, nevertheless be the recipient of more favor. The trustworthy dog will have more freedom. It will be able to spend more time with me, not only having fellowship, but also sharing in my adventures. Conversely, the untrustworthy dog is the one who must be restricted, the one to be left at home, or always confined to a leash. Disobedience is not only dangerous, but in the end it squeezes the abundance out of what should have been an abundant life (Jn 10:10b).

And Samuel said, Hath the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice... 1 Samuel 15:22a

* * *

When bedtime came, Sahara was curled up snugly on our bed. Crate! I commanded. Sahara obediently responded, getting up, stretching and running into her crate that is next to the bed. I was pleased with her quick obedience and turned to my husband to compliment her.

But he said, What do you mean? She’s not in the crate! She’s back on the bed!

According to my husband, who saw the whole thing from the doorway, she had entered the crate on a trot, turned around, and trotted out. She didn’t even lie down!

So... when is obedience not obedience? When it is done by the letter of the law. She obeyed. But she missed the point. Or did she? She did as I commanded, but then she went right back to her own way. Having fulfilled the command she was now free to do her own thing. Of course she’s just a dog. I wonder if our church-going sometimes appears that way to God?

And they come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them... Ezekiel 3:31a

* * *

True to her breed, Sahara seldom shows affection. Mostly she is a loner. However, occasionally she’ll come to us, cock her head in a winsome manner, and elegantly offer her paw. She doesn’t beg, as one thinks of servile begging. Her bearing is noble, and she is most gracious. Her message is: I want something. Serve me. She is dependent on us, but she has little need of us, only our services.

Through life with Sahara, God has lifted my mind to think of His truth: obedience is clasped in love. Obedience proves